Scully had awoken cranky, but determined. Time to get to the bottom of her transformation!

She stomped off into town, and shot at two teal deer who tried to stop her from going inside the clinic. She took a sample of their blood as they limped away. (And drank some of it, but not from the sample. You had to keep your materials separate to avoid contamination.)

The nurses were staying waaaay on the other side of the Clinic from her, as she worked on her tests.

"Thith ith ridiculuth," she muttered through her just-starting-to-emerge fangs, as she broke yet another beaker. Really, those things didn't grow on trees!

The blood sample that Triela had left Scully after her death was yielding interesting if ultimately frustrating results. It was great to have some answers, even if they were sadly after they could be useful to her patient.

The Conditioning drugs were remarkably similar to organ anti-rejection drugs; there were similar compounds used in her world. The combination of sedatives, hypnotics, and memory suppressants were much more tricky to break down, and she suspected it would take another week's worth of analysis to have a full work-up. The sad thing was how elegantly -- if nastily -- they worked together; one drug couldn't be unchained from another. The benefit of the anti-rejection drugs was enhanced to viability by the memory suppressants, and the tranquilizers were influenced by the physical adaptation drugs. There was no way that she could see so far to reap the benefits without all of them building up in a patient's system within seven to eight years.

She kept working on it anyway, hoping to find a key to unlock the system.

Her finals all done, Scully was concentrating on her medical investigations now, trying to find more possibilities for treating Triela. The timeline they'd established in early March said there was less than a month left-- maybe only a few weeks.

Martha had planted herself at the front desk with a large coffee and the latest inventory check. She was certain that something in the invoice didn't add up, but she hadn't figured out what yet. Once she did, there was a supply company that was going to be on the receiving end of a very angry phone call.

Scully was researching porphyria now. Not that she wanted to inflict it on herself, but maybe, if someone out there could figure out a way to age someone up, without overdoing it or the worst side effects... maybe that would be a good alternative to finding another djinn.

The nurses were talking about Nosferatu Journals, and anticipating the return of the show and possibly more patients who didn't take 'don't try this at home' seriously enough.

Scully was giving one of the walk-ins a look of exasperation as the day started. "Tomato juice, celery, a shot of lemon. And I'll give you a B-complex shot just this once. Next time, don't drink so much. Or forget to drink water. Or fall asleep in the Preserve." She made a face. "Near any stripey cats, yeah, I got that part."

Scully was -- well. Geeking out. There was no other word for it. She was playing using the mass spectrometer to examine a portion of the venom sample that Karla had volunteered, in the hopes of creating an anti-venom.

She was also muttering aloud. "...glutamic acid, with cholinesterases... but that's probably just to facilitate cross-membrane transport. Which does support the idea of a predatory evolution of the fang...."

The nurses were keeping a safe distance and pretending they couldn't hear her.

With two new employees taking care of things at the clinic, Martha had a little more time to relax during the day. Today, she was taking that time to peruse the internet for medical news, which seemed to be focusing today on stupid teenagers being stupid. It was amazing how after seeing so much in her life, she was still surprised sometimes by the ingenuity of people when it came to finding regrettable ways to have a good time.

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